


Unplanned Circumstances

by haztobegood



Series: Unplanned Circumstances [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha Zayn Malik, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Sex, Angst, Knotting, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Rut, Mentions of gunshot wounds but nothing graphic, Mpreg, Omega Louis, Pregnant Louis Tomlinson, Spy Zayn Malik, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unprotected Sex, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 09:06:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24468436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haztobegood/pseuds/haztobegood
Summary: Zayn has worked his whole life to be one of the top spies in the Agency. When he returns from his latest mission, the unexpected reappearance of a one-night-stand could change everything.
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Louis Tomlinson
Series: Unplanned Circumstances [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1802899
Comments: 31
Kudos: 89
Collections: 1D A/B/O Fic Fest





	Unplanned Circumstances

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the [1DABOFicFest](https://1daboficfest.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> Thanks to [pocketsunshineharry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishiplouis/works) for running this fest and giving me an extension.
> 
> This was based off the prompt "Alpha Zayn leaves town for a few months after falling into bed with Omega Louis. Louis is pregnant but doesn't know how to contact Zayn. He tries to find him but it's as if Zayn has disappeared. Much angst but with a happy ending". I was really inspired to write this when I first read the prompt, but what I thought would be a quick one shot quickly grew out of hand. I do have a happy ending outlined for this fic, but ran out of time to write it.

The stale scent hits Zayn as the door to his flat creaks open. The musty, closed up odor has dampened the familiar warmth that used to welcome him. The staleness unsettles him and the drawn curtains add to the claustrophobic feeling clawing at the back of his mind. He flicks the lights on, illuminating the space he’d left behind four months ago. It’s a studio, with a small kitchen, even smaller living area taken up mostly by his bed. The bed is still unmade, with the wrinkled grey sheets twisted exactly as he’d left them.

His alpha is itching to scent every corner, to remark this space. The urge simmers in his chest, especially being so close to his rut. But, he’ll have plenty of time to scent up the space over the next four days. Instead, he pulls back a curtain and cracks the window. The crisp nighttime breeze coming through will have to appease the unsettled alpha within him for now.

His limbs are heavy with exhaustion as he pulls off his wrinkled button down shirt and tailored black trousers. It feels as if he is shedding his false identity as the clothes fall to the floor. After all, he hadn’t been Zayn Malik for the past 113 days.

Wearing only his grey pants, Zayn flops down face first, arms spread onto his mattress. He wraps his arms around the pillow and turns his nose into it. Luckily his scent has remained saturated in the pillow and it is able to mask the staleness of his flat. He breathes in deep and lets the tension seep out of his muscles for the first time in months as he falls sleep.

* * *

The automatic door slides open too slowly with a low screeching noise, as if protesting his entrance to the grocery store. Zayn is impatient, scoffing at the malfunctioning door. He tugs at the neckline of his grey hoodie, adjusting the too-warm fabric. Just an hour ago, putting on one of his favorite old hoodies had been a luxury he’d relished, but it is quickly becoming unbearable.

He can feel his temperature rising, the uncomfortable sweaty symptoms setting in. It won’t be long now. He only has a few hours to accomplish his errands before he locks himself into the flat to ride out another rut by himself. He usually pulls someone, goes clubbing and convinces an omega to join his rut, or hires a service. But with his rut starting so soon after the end of his mission, he didn’t have enough time to make his usual arrangements and he has resigned himself to going through it alone.

Zayn grabs a basket and prepares to stock up. He doesn’t want to spend too much time in the store. Get in, grab what he needs, and get out. Zayn hates shopping, being closed inside a busy store with rows of shelving blocking his view of the exits. It doesn’t help that he is so used to looking over his shoulder from his months undercover. He allows himself to indulge in a bit of paranoia as he subtly scents the air.

Scenting has always been an indispensable skill. As an alpha, olfaction is the strongest of Zayn’s five senses. During training for the Agency, Zayn honed the sense even further, enabling him to track faint scent trails and detect acute changes in pheromones.

Scenting does nothing to settle his nerves. He is bombarded with the mixture of scents. Each shopper leaves a unique trail. All of those scents mix with the aromas of baked goods, sliced meats, and other foods. There are just too many scents for him to pick up on anything in particular.

Still on high alert, Zayn starts to wind his way through the produce section. The sooner he finishes, the sooner he can get out of the store. He tosses some essentials into his basket. Some apples and oranges, a bag of baby carrots, things that will be easy to eat with little prep.

As he makes his way down the cereal aisle, there is a scent trail that catches his attention.

Up front it’s bright and pleasing, like the juiciest ripe peaches but it’s layered with a warmer undertone that is all too familiar. The warm comforting aroma of praline is nearly identical to the notes of his own unique scent. The scents entwine so perfectly, like a fresh baked peach cobbler and overlap so thoroughly that Zayn cannot distinguish one from the other.

He scents the air again, more obvious than before, to pick up on this scent trail. It is unnerving how similar it is to his own. But that is not possible since he hasn’t been into this grocery store for months. Surely any traces of his presence would have been wiped from all the hard surfaces and high traffic areas long ago.

Zayn tries to follow the scent trail as he shops. He cannot make sense of the oddly familiar scent. He’s no longer paying attention to the items he tosses in his basket, distracted by trying to suss out the origin of the scent and continually looking over his shoulder as if the source would suddenly appear behind him.

By the time Zayn gets to the checkout, his nerves are wearing thin. He hasn’t figured out why traces of his scent are all over the store and he can’t stop turning over possibilities in his head. It’s best that he wrap up this shopping trip and get out of the store before he drives himself mad with impossible theories.

He unloads the contents of his shopping basket onto the conveyor belt. Behind him, there’s a bright laugh. He recognizes the sound from somewhere, yet he can’t immediately recall where. He’s not at his sharpest, with stressing over scents in the grocery store and his oncoming rut.

Zayn turns toward the door in the direction of the laugh. A man chatting on a cell phone throws his head back, letting out the same airy laugh as he talks animatedly with his free hand. He’s faced away, but other details catch Zayn’s attention. He has short brown hair, is wearing an olive green tracksuit, and is posed in a powerful stance. Two bags of groceries rest at his feet.

The man hangs up the call and bends down to grab his bags. Zayn is startled from ogling the stranger’s ass as another customer crosses his line of sight. A low growl rumbles in his throat, aimed at the person that obstructed his view.

Behind the register, the clerk clears her throat reprovingly. He turns back and is met with her hard glare.

“Oh, sorry,” Zayn mutters, chagrined to realize that he’d growled at a passing stranger. His rut must be getting closer than he anticipated.

As the clerk continues ringing up his items, he turns back, only to watch the squeaky broken automatic door part and the mystery man leave the store. If only that person hadn’t interrupted his view, he might have caught a glimpse of the man’s face. Zayn could punch a wall.

He clenches his hands into fists, knuckles turning white as his blunt fingernails press into the meat of his palms. He snaps his mouth shut to prevent anymore accidental growls.

He tries not to seem impatient as the clerk finishes bagging his purchases and rings up his total. But it’s no use. Zayn tugs at the neckline of his hoodie anxiously, glancing back toward the door every time it screeches open. He needs to get out of the grocery store before anything else could throw him fully into rut.

* * *

Sat on the edge of his bed, Zayn begins to stroke his cock. It grows to full hardness in his grip. He growls at the rough sensation of his hand. It’s fast, and dirty. There’s a new bottle of lube at the bottom of one of the grocery bags, but he couldn’t be bothered. He’s so close to coming already.

He’d made it back to his flat before his rut started. Barely. As he loaded his groceries into his car, he could feel that his temperature spiked. Sweat dripped down his spine. He tore off his hoodie, opting to drive shirtless rather than be trapped in the unbearable confines of the soft fabric. By the time he pulled into the carpark, he was already sporting a semi. Once home, he tossed his groceries on the counter and stripped off his clothes in a trail from the kitchen to his bed.

It doesn’t take long to give into the urge, feeling the swelling bumps of his knot at the base of his cock. The added pressure at his most sensitive part drives him mad. His mind is lost in a swirl of need. Need to come, need to pop his knot, need to claim an omega.

He puts a hand behind him, leaning back on his palm as he works himself over with his other hand. He quickly pulls himself off, twisting his hand and bucking his hips into his fist. He presses the pad of his thumb into the crown, strokes tightly, chasing the relief.

He thrusts faster, arching his back as his knot begins to expand. He lays down on the bed, gripping the base of his cock with his free hand as he continues his rapid strokes. His knot expands as he spirals closer. He tenses, bucking his hips into his touch, and moans as the knot inflates in the press of his hand.

Then his knot pops he squeezes over it, trying to simulate locking it into an omega, though it never works like that. His body knows. He comes, spilling into his fist. His knot begins to deflate without the pressure so soon after the release, ruining the final waves of orgasm. A bit of come he can’t catch splashes onto his bare thigh. He releases his grasp on his deflating knot to reach for a tissue.

He flops back onto the bed, frustrated and aroused, with no relief in sight. He’s only getting started. He growls loudly in annoyance. He is already off to a disappointing and unfulfilling start. This is going to be a miserable rut.

At least this orgasm seems to have temporarily cleared out some of the incoherence of rut. He has enough mind to wash up and puts away the groceries, his hard dick bobbing as he walks around his flat. He finds the lube and tosses it onto the mattress. He grabs a granola bar and a glass of water.

It’s not long after he finishes his snack that the rut completely settles into his bones. It takes over every facet of his body as he flops back onto the mattress humping his hips into a pillow to chase the feeling of plowing into an omega.

His thoughts become incoherent and the desire for an omega overwhelms him. Without one present, he conjures fantasies to assuage the need. Slick coating his cock, hands roaming his body, omega scent of ripe peaches wrapping around him.

The last image he recalls is a flash of blue eyes before he comes.

* * *

Zayn reaches for one of the standard issue ceramic mugs from the rack and pours himself some coffee from the almost empty pot. Hopefully, the jolt of caffeine will cut through his post-rut exhaustion.

He is just glad to be back in the office. A day after his rut had ended, he’d grown restless of being cooped up in the flat in silence. He couldn't sit around for any longer with his alpha feeling unfulfilled and annoyed at every little thing. It’s good to be back at work and in his routine again, never one for sitting around. His lack of purpose between assignments always irritates him, but this time the added frustrations of his rut amplified his agitation. He is driven, that’s how he has made it as such an accomplished agent. Throwing himself head first into his work prevents him from the loneliness waiting for him at home.

“Z! Didn’t expect to see you back so soon.” Zayn tenses at the boisterous greeting, prepared for the accompanying hand that lands squarely on his back.

“Horan. How’s it going?” Zayn responds.

He is glad the first person he’s ran into at the office is Niall. He is one of the few people he’d actually missed. They’d both been accepted into the Special Intelligence Operations Program at sixteen. He and Niall Horan had met the first day of training, and they’d climbed the ranks within the Agency side by side. In the early years after completing the intense training, they'd worked many missions together. Niall was a reliable partner until a bullet took out his knee during a raid. After that, Niall was transferred to the SI-Ops Communications Division and Zayn started to take on more solo missions. Zayn couldn’t risk another incident taking out a good agent under his command. That’s how he’d been recommended for his latest solo undercover mission.

“Alright, mate. Been busy around here, but not as busy as you. I can’t believe you got Hendricks _and_ Thompson. That bust was next level!”

Zayn admires his enthusiasm for the mission. “Yeah I’m glad it worked out."

“It must have been epic, you’ll have to tell me about it!”

As they make their way from the break room, Zayn recounts some of the declassified details of the mission. It’d been pretty boring, as far as infiltrating a crime ring goes, in Zayn’s experience. There were a lot less explosions and car chases than in the movies. The clientele tended to be more highbrow when dealing with art worth millions of euros.

The first month that Zayn worked his way into the scheme was tedious, filled with cocktail parties, museum fundraisers, and private dinners. Networking with the socialites was the surest way to gain the trust of the important players. It wasn’t until he’d gotten close to the top and discovered the connection to Jimmy Thompson, one of Europe’s top drug distributors, and his drug distribution network, that the stakes heated up.

It had been big, discovering that Thompson was involved with the Hendricks’ network. Having an opportunity to take out both Thompson and Hendricks from the inside was invaluable, though it complicated matters further and extended the length of the operation.

In the end, Zayn’s intel successfully brought down two huge crime rings and made headlines across the continent.

“Well, we’ll have to catch up more later, but I got a meeting with the boss.” Niall welcomes him back once more before heading off. Then Zayn booted up his computer and sat down to catch up on some emails that flooded his abandoned inbox.

“You’re not supposed to be back yet.”

“Good morning to you too, Payne,” Zayn says, looking up from his computer screen. Liam Payne, the director of his department looms over him, with his arms crossed his chest and a disproving scowl. Zayn can smell the authority and confidence rolling off Liam, but it's undercut by concern.

“Since when are you one for pleasantries?”

Zayn shrugs.

“Why are you here? You are supposed to have the rest of the week off.”

“Needed to stay busy. I meant to stop by and ask you if there’s any word about another op I could get in on.”

“Malik, I know you’re jumping to get back out in the field. That’s what you do best. But my hands are tied. Protocol says you need at least a week off after a rut, so you’re not still trigger-happy and jumpy. And besides, you just got back. You could really do for a break. Take a holiday or something.”

“I don’t go on holiday.”

“I know.” Liam shakes his head. “Well, if you won’t stay at home, then you’re on desk duty for the next week.”

“Fine,” Zayn huffs and sags back into his desk chair.

* * *

Two days later, Zayn is called into Liam’s office mid-morning. The scent of reluctance fills the office, and Liam is wearing a troubled frown to match.

“Are you ready to send me out now?” Zayn asks. The morning briefing had covered the all of the current cases, and Zayn had been particularly interested in one of the new cases that they’d just picked up. He is hopeful he will get assigned to it and be relieved of his desk duty.

Liam waits for Zayn to take a seat in one of the uncomfortable square chairs in front of his desk.

“I’m going to make an exception. But, only this once. And only because I know that you could do this in your sleep.” Liam hands over a file folder.

Zayn opens the file, seeing a note scribbled on a scrap of paper listing only an address and a time. Behind the note is the standard briefing of the case, with all relevant information to catch him up to speed. He hasn’t seen one of these basic files in years.

“We got a call yesterday. Our informant has some intel, but only agreed to hand it over in person.”

Zayn raises his eye brow. He hadn’t been assigned anything that menial since he was twenty. But before he can protest, Liam stares him down.

“You’re technically not cleared for anything in the field yet and I wouldn’t be sending you out if it was a last resort. Tyler and Nicole were already scheduled to stake out a delivery that was going down and Jamal called in sick with food poisoning.”

“Understood.” Zayn flips the folder closed.

* * *

Zayn sits at a small table at the back of the cafe. In the three hours since Liam had handed over the case file, he had enough time to familiarize himself with every aspect of the case the team was working on and what the informant was expected to have valuable intel on. All in all, it seems to be pretty straightforward, and the informant he is set to meet is reliable. Liam is right that Zayn could probably do this in his sleep.

Even though this task does not require the same deftness as his usual assignments, it still feels invigorating to slip into an inconspicuous role outside of the office as he waits for the arrival of the informant.

He chose to sit at a table that allows him to have eyes over most of the cafe. There’s light chatter of other patrons around him, the hissing of the espresso machine. It’s still busy as the last of the lunch rush finish their meals or grab a drink to-go. He would have preferred a drop site that was less crowded, but at least the cafe was small and he could see every corner of the room from his seat.

The warm smell of brewed coffee beans fills the shop and he breathes it in as he waits. The strong aroma of roasted coffee dilutes the scents in the shop. It’s possible that was one of the reasons the informant picked this cafe. Even though it impedes his ability to detect faint changes scent or the presence of others from a distance, he doesn’t mind the aroma of coffee all that much. While undercover he’d been required to wake up early and go to bed late most days and it really messed with his normal sleep schedule. He developed a habit of always drinking too much coffee. He sips at his too-hot coffee. It scalds the tip of his tongue.

“You!”

Zayn snaps to attention, nearly splashing his coffee. He scans the room, trying to determine what’s going on. A confrontation between some customers could scare off his informant. He quickly surveys the cafe. He notices a man rushing toward him. With a finger pointed at Zayn and face turned in a scowl, the man looks irate. He’s wearing the apron with the cafe’s logo and a name badge, though Zayn doesn’t get a chance to read it before he has bigger problems.

“What the fuck, Zayn?” the man starts cussing him out. Loudly. “Where the fuck have you been?”

Shit. His cover is blown. The shouts are attracting the attention of every person in the cafe. It is as if someone pressed pause on the cafe, ambient noise of customers has halted and all eyes are watching the pair. Zayn needs to get out of the cafe.

The metal chair clatters back as Zayn stand up too fast. The man crowds closer, angrily pushing his finger into Zayn’s chest while shouting. “Don’t you dare run away, you motherfucker.”

In their proximity, the man’s scent envelopes Zayn. Distinctly omega, like ripe peaches, it brings back a flash of memories. Louis. In that instant, Zayn remembers the night they had shared. Their pheromones mixed in the room. Heated skin, dirty words, sweet slick. Those bright blue eyes.

This is no time to get distracted. He pushes those thoughts away. In a split second, Zayn changes course. He can’t leave someone that knows his name at the drop point. He raises his hands in surrender, hoping to diffuse the situation. If he plays his hand right, the witnesses could think it was nothing more than a dispute between exes and forget he was even there.

“I’m sorry, Louis. Can we take this outside?” Zayn tips his head, motioning to the gathered crowd behind him.

Thankfully, Louis seems to come to his senses. He turns to leave out the back exit, through a door marked for associates only. Zayn follows him.

As soon as the heavy metal door clangs shut behind him, Louis starts to shout again. “I’m so angry I could kill you!”

If he wasn’t so focused on the assignment, Zayn would be impressed with the ferocity of the omega.

“I’ve looked everywhere for you after that night but you fucking disappeared.” Louis’ voice cracks on the last syllable. That draws Zayn’s attention.

“You looked for me?”

“Of course I did! As soon as I found out I was pregnant. Thought it was only right you knew.”

It’s then that Zayn takes note of Louis’ posture, the way he rests his hand on a barely there bump. Zayn scents the air. Inside the cafe, with coffee covering and his own proximity it hadn’t been distinguishable. But now that he was searching for it, he could smell their two scents braided together. “Oh fuck.”

“Yeah, oh fuck.” Louis is livid. He throws up his arms. “And now after all this time you just happen to waltz into the cafe where I work.”

“I’m sorry…” Zayn stammers, unsure of how else to react.

“I’m sure you are.” Louis scoffs. “But, you can’t just come back into this now and expect it to be okay. I’ve made it this far along without you. I don’t need you.”

The words settle heavy on Zayn. He flounders for a way to respond. The shock of everything in the last few minutes has knocked him off balance.

Before he has a chance to wrap his head around his thoughts, Louis speaks again, his voice turned to emotionless steel. “My break is over. I suggest you find a different cafe to get your coffee in the future.” With that, Louis turns on his heel and disappears back into the cafe.

The reality of his situation washes over him as the metal door bangs shut. Zayn winces at the loud noise. He groans.

His identity was blasted all over the drop point. And there’s no telling if the informant or anyone related to the case had been around to witness it. He’s botched the assignment, and all thanks to a moment of weakness where he’d revealed his name to a one-night-stand. He could kick past-Zayn for such a foolish choice.

And that one-night-stand was a single, unbonded omega carrying his child. Their child.

“Bloody fuck.” Zayn punches the dumpster. His fist impacts on the metal, the loud bang echoing through the alley.

Then he shakes his head clear, pulls out his burner and presses the speed dial. After two rings the line connects. “Payne, we have a problem.”

It takes the rest of the afternoon to get the situation under control. Liam sends out another agent to handle the informant and try to assess the damage of Zayn’s mishap. In the meantime, Zayn recounts the entire incident with Liam and they draft up a report.

“So, this Louis guy just came out of nowhere, and started shouting at you? But why?”

Oh, right. Zayn had left out that detail. “He’s pregnant.” Liam brow furrows. “And, it’s mine,” Zayn tacks on, still not quite believing his own words.

“Shit.” Liam lets out a tense breath. It’s one of the only times he’s heard Liam break from his composed demeanor. Then Liam grabs his pen and jots down a few more words into the notepad where he’d been documenting everything Zayn has relayed to him. He sets down the pen on top of the notes and folds his hands over the paper, leaning in toward Zayn.

The stress of the entire afternoon catches up with him in that instant, he sags into the chair under the weight of his admission. “I don’t know what to do.” Zayn says quietly.

Liam offers a sympathetic half-smile. Then his composed attitude is back and ready to dish out orders. “Alright, here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll handle this report. You’re going to go home, take a few days to sort this out. Talk to the omega, whatever you need to do. But I don’t want to see you back to work until you have a plan. Understood?”

Zayn can only nod.

“And if you need anything, call me.”

After that exchange, Zayn heads home. Zayn steps into the steaming shower to scrub off the emotional day. His thoughts inevitably drift to the night he met Louis.

* * *

Zayn sipped at his drink while he skimmed over the club. For a Friday night, the dance floor wasn’t too crowded, but all the tables and booths were occupied. No one immediately caught his eye, but he was hopeful that someone would by the end of the night.

Anticipation buzzed in his veins at the thought of going home with someone. It had been two months since his last rut, and he couldn’t remember much of that past the omega from the rut service showing up at his door. It had been even longer since he’d had sex outside of his rut, probably close to a year now.

He’d gotten dressed up and came to the club hoping to pull. It would be his last chance for sex with anyone other than his hand for the foreseeable future. He couldn’t risk involving anyone else, even just for the night, when he was in such a precarious position.

It only took the sound of carefree laughter to turn Zayn’s head. He saw a beautiful man in a booth across the bar. The three people he was with barely register as Zayn took in the sharp cut of his jaw and the even sharper cheekbones highlighted by the dim overhead lighting. The man threw his head back in laughter again, eyes squinting shut. It was mesmerizing.

Intrigued by the man, Zayn watched the table closely until the group took to the dance floor. Though Zayn was not the best dancer, it was the perfect opportunity to make an introduction and hopefully convince the man to take him home. Luckily for Zayn, dance moves were not a requirement as the man soon took to grinding filthily against Zayn to the remixed pop song blasting in the club.

Up close, Zayn could pick out the man’s pheromones from the crowd, the enticingly sweet fragrance characteristic of most omegas. Zayn resisted the urge to fully scent the air to detect the minute notes.

A few songs later, the DJ slowed it down, playing a sultry tune. Zayn barely registered the change in tempo before the omega was turning around. The omega wrapped his arms around Zayn’s neck as they swayed to the song. Zayn looked into his brilliant bright eyes, sparkling in the swirling lights of the dance floor. Zayn let his inhibitions go a bit more than he usually would, getting swept up in the desire and heat of the moment. For just tonight Zayn could imagine that this could be the start of something instead of a means to an end.

Then, the omega leaned in and whispered an introduction, “I’m Louis Tomlinson. What's your name?”

“Nice to meet you, Louis. I'm Zayn Malik.” he responded. It felt reckless yet benign to give away his name to a stranger on the dance floor. He could count on one hand the number of people that knew his full name. The inherent danger of his career meant always living under the radar and keeping his cards close to his chest. Maybe it was that he was only hours from leaving his name behind that prompted him to offer up the slightest of personal details. It was always difficult to live undercover, giving up all semblance of self for the created persona that the Agency thrust upon him. He didn’t yet know what his newest alias would be for this mission, so he clung to the last few hours that belonged wholly to himself.

They danced together until the slow song ended, then Louis said, “Care to take me home, Zayn?” He wiggles his eyebrow suggestively as he grinds his ass back into him, surely feeling Zayn’s semi. An omega knowing what he wanted and taking the lead, Zayn had hit the jackpot.

Louis’ flat was a short walk from the club. Louis unlocked the door and led him in. Zayn took a deep breath as he always did when entering a new space for the first time, using his sense of smell to hone in on anything out-of-place or threatening. But all he could smell was the omega, in every nook and cranny, every surface, every bit of fabric, was drenched in the omega’s fragrant scent. Undiluted by roommates or partners. It satisfied Zayn’s alpha to know that he was one of the few that had been in his home recently.

The absence of other scents also settled his alpha, and the tension dropped from his shoulders as Louis turned the lock in the door behind him. He was so used to looking over his shoulder and being alert that it felt wonderful to put all that aside and just enjoy the night without worrying too much. It had been so long since he’d been able to let himself relax. He didn’t want to think about how this was the last sex he’d get for the foreseeable future.

As soon as the lock bolted shut, Louis was kissing Zayn. Zayn flipped them around, pressing Louis up against the door and guiding Louis to wrap his legs around his waist. The heated kiss deepened as the smell of Louis’ slick swirled around them. It was subtle at first but he sweet tang was a heady rush. Zayn couldn’t miss how the sweetness reeled him in. Louis pulled back from Zayn’s lips and pressed his nose to his neck, scenting Zayn.

“Want your knot,” Louis panted into his neck.

Zayn didn’t have to be told twice. He carried Louis to the bedroom down the hall. They tumbled into bed naked and Zayn crawled between Louis' legs. He paused to admire his lean figure and smattering of tattoos. The black ink was similar to his own collection, seemingly random doodles that probably captured important memories. He sucked a mark on Louis’ collarbone as his hand trailed down to his hole. Louis was already wet and his two fingers slid in easily.

The room quickly filled with their pheromones mixed with the salty tang of sweat. Zayn continued sliding his fingers through the slick, savoring the tight heat and imagining how much better it would be when his cock replaced his fingers. Louis bucked up into the press, chasing his fingers each time he pulled out.

Finally, Zayn couldn’t want to wait longer. This time when Zayn slid his fingers out, instead of pressing back in, he rubbed teasing circles at Louis’ entrance as he asked, “Condoms?”

Louis motioned to the bedside table. Zayn pulled his fingers out, wiping them off on the sheet before he leaned over the side of the bed, reaching for the drawer. He pulled out the box of alpha condoms. He flipped open the top and stuck his hand inside. It was empty.

“It’s empty.” Zayn frowned at the offending box.

“No it’s not.” Louis’ eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, it is.” Zayn tipped the box upside down over Louis' bare chest but nothing fell out.

“Fuck.” Louis sat up, digging through the drawer to check for himself. He came up empty.

“It’s alright, we can do other things.” Zayn’s eyes trailed down to Louis’ cock, imagining all the ways he could have his way with him. So many possibilities. If only they had more than one night.

“But I wanted you to fuck me.” Louis pouted, pointedly looking at Zayn’s knot. Louis seems to think for a minute, scowling at the empty box. Then, Louis tossed the box to the floor and looked Zayn in the eye. “I’m on the pill, and I’m clean if you’re clean.”

“You sure?” Zayn asked, hesitant.

“Of course.” Louis tweaked one of Zayn’s nipples playfully.

Zayn batted his hand away smiling. “Yeah,” Zayn agreed. “I’m clean.”

“Thank fuck!” Louis tackled him, flipping their position.

“Oof,” Zayn exhaled, caught off guard by the omega once again. He was not, however, disappointed by the turn of events as Louis settled on top of Zayn’s thighs. The view from below Louis was glorious. He cataloged the curve of his hips, the tattoos, the eyelashes. So many little details he hadn’t caught until then.

Louis wrapped a hand around Zayn’s erection, stroking with his dry palm. Zayn hissed at the touch. “Didn’t want to miss the opportunity. Been thinking about it all night.” Louis squeezed the base of Zayn’s shaft, right over his knot. Zayn moaned, throwing his head back as a jolt of intense pleasure ripped through his veins.

Louis raised himself up, strong thighs steady as he lined up his cock. He slid the head through the gathered slick until it caught on his rim. He lowered inch by inch onto his length. Admiring the view from below, Zayn didn’t know if he’d seen anything more beautiful. This night would fuel his fantasies for years to come.

Louis began to ride him. It was an otherworldly experience. He had never gone bare outside of rut before and the warmth was as overwhelming as the feel of slick. He moaned as Louis sank down completely in one quick move, then pulled himself back up slow and steady. Zayn rested his hands on Louis’ hips, his thumb rubbing circles into the soft flesh at the crease. Louis was more than capable of riding without the support, his strong thighs working effortlessly. Zayn moved one hand behind, trailing his finger down to touch where he was pressed inside of Louis.

His fingers came away coated in slick. He brought the hand to his mouth, licking the slick from his fingers. He wrapped his lips around his fingers, savoring the taste. Louis moaned at the sight. He dropped his hips down, leaning in to kiss his own slick from Zayn’s tongue. He swiveled his hips, deep grinding down to take Zayn deeper. Zayn growled into his mouth in response, unable to hold back a near feral reaction. Everything with Louis had been so intense, so hot. And they hadn’t even come yet.

Louis broke the kiss and picked up his pace, bouncing on his cock again. When Louis movements slowed, Zayn held him up, planting his feet on the mattress and fucking in hard from below. On a particularly deep thrust, Louis moaned out his name. It is a startling reminder of how reckless he had been, but for once he could not care less about breaking protocol. His alpha was pleased to know that this omega would remember him, not just some fake alias. He gripped Louis’ waist firmly and rocked his hips, setting a brutal pace that had Louis whining with each thrust.

Louis leaned back to change the angle, taking Zayn’s cock deeper. Zayn slowed his pace, enjoying the tight drag as the base of his cock expanded. His knot began to catch on his rim. Louis arched back and clenched tight around Zayn as his knot pressed into his spot.

Zayn was close to coming and by the sheer euphoria on his face, Louis was too. “I’m close, gonna pull out,” Zayn panted out.

“No don’t. Please,” Louis whined. He leaned forward, trapping Zayn in the cage of his arms as he continued to rock his hips back. He looked into Zayn’s eyes. “Knot me, alpha.”

Those words sent Zayn over before he could think. Louis’ thighs shook as the expanding knot stretched his rim. With one last thrust, Zayn knot locked them together as he came. Louis clenched around his knot, coming untouched.

Louis used a corner of the sheet to wipe at the come splashed on their stomaches before collapsed onto Zayn’s chest. He tucked his nose into Zayn’s neck. As he scented Zayn, Louis' heavy panting subsided to deep breaths. Wrapped in Zayn’s arms and still locked on his knot, it didn’t take long for Louis to succumb to sleep. Zayn savored his post-orgasm high admiring the beautiful sleeping omega in his arms and relishing each pulse of his knot as he stayed tied together. Sleep overcame him before he’d been able to pull out.

Zayn woke up a few hours later with Louis still draped over him. Zayn shifted his gaze around the dark room. A sliver of inky pre-dawn sky was visible through a gap in the curtains. He still had time to make his exit before Louis would wake up. An awkward goodbye could tarnish the memories of the previous night. And, oh, how he wanted to remember their night.

He tucked his nose into the curve of Louis’ neck. He cataloged every note and subtlety of the fragrance. Taking one last scent where it is most concentrated, Zayn let the wave of the omega pheromones wash over him. Then, he gently untangled himself from Louis and climbed out of bed without waking him. Once dressed in last night’s clothes, Zayn was ready to sneak out, but not quite ready to leave. He gave in to the urge to look back at Louis, watching the omega wrap around the pillow Zayn had been sleeping on. It spurred some foreign emotion in him, seeing an omega reaching out for his scent.

Under different circumstances, Zayn might have left a cell number. Zayn might have even stayed until morning. Under different circumstances, this could have been the first night of many.

But none of that was possible with Zayn’s circumstances. He had a job to do, orders to follow, a mission to complete. He had a new identity to assume and an uncertain future. It was best that he made the clean break.

* * *

Zayn steps out of the shower and grabs the towel from the rack. His limbs still feel heavy from his orgasm as he dries off. He drops the towel on the floor before exiting the bathroom.

He runs on autopilot as he dresses in joggers and an old shirt then makes his way to the kitchen to cook some dinner. He is still reeling from thoughts of Louis. 

Louis, who is pregnant with his baby. The odds of pregnancy while an omega was taking the pill were low, but not zero. Zayn had been so wrapped up in his desire that he hadn’t considered all the possible consequences when Louis has suggested fucking bare. And it had been some of the best sex he’d had. It had been amazingly hot, the way Louis looked above him and how right he felt around him. 

He’d thought back to their tryst on numerous occasions over the course of his four months under cover. As much as that night had been on replay, Zayn had never once considered trying to reconnect with Louis now that he was back. But knowing that Louis is pregnant changes everything.

He feels a pull toward Louis and the baby, and is on edge from the distance between them. Zayn feels a strong desire to protect and provide for them. But, Louis said that he didn’t want Zayn around. He wants to respect his wishes, but his alpha doesn’t understand and it’s making him agitated. He feels disoriented and restricted.

In an attempt to sort out his feelings, Zayn decides to research pregnancy on his computer while he eats. He has no frame of reference to understand what Louis is dealing with. Hopefully, he can learn something and come away with a better understanding for why the omega pushed him away.

He starts out with the basics, a website that details how pregnancy happens. It’s very medical and lines up with what he can remember from his health class in secondary school. Then Zayn opens a website with a week-by-week break down of a typical pregnancy. There’s a few filters for primary and secondary sexes, then it leads to a very thorough catalogue of what the baby looks like, common symptoms, and general tips for every week of the pregnancy for a male oemga.

Zayn browses through each week curiously, fascinated by the details of the foetal development. Everything on the site is written positively, explaining the joys of development and the amazing changes that help create a new life. For the first time since learning of the pregnancy, Zayn feels a twinge of excitement about having a baby. After reading through the first few weeks, Zayn is eager to know just what his baby looks like. He counts weeks on his fingers, then clicks on the link to the appropriate week.

He chuckles when the website says the baby is currently the size of a peach. Thinking about peaches makes him think about Louis. He remembers how Louis’ sweet smell surrounded him that night. Then he recalls how it has changed with the pregnancy, mixed with his own scent. His omega’s scent is quickly becoming one of his favorite aromas. Not _his_ omega. Zayn shakes his head to dislodge the thought.

The thought doesn’t disappear. All through the night, Zayn can’t help but wonder if Louis could be his omega someday. It’s not something he’s ever thought he’d want for himself, but now that it’s within reach, the thought of family is enticing.

He resolves to show Louis that he wants to be there for both of them. It might take some apologies and a bit of convincing, but hopefully Louis will let him in.

Early the next morning, Zayn splashes some cold water on his face hoping to make himself look less tired that he actually is. It had been a fitful night of sleep as Zayn fretted about every possible outcome of his impending conversation with Louis. Every worst case scenario he could imagine filled his dreams as he tossed and turned.

Now that it is morning, he is nervous to face Louis. He has no idea what to expect, but hopes that he won’t be turned away again. He takes his grey hoodie from the closet and pulls it on over his head. Then, he grabs his phone and wallet and heads out the door.

Zayn starts walking in the direction of Louis’ apartment, using the memory of that fateful night to guide him back. He doesn’t want to seem overly creepy, but without having Louis’ number the most he can do is show up at his apartment complex and hope he will hear him out. It’s not the best plan, but it is all he has.

As a last minute decision, Zayn stops by a nearby bakery. He buys an assortment of pastries as a gift to appease Louis when he shows up unannounced.

All too soon, Zayn searches the door buzzers for the one tagged LT. #419. He presses the button and waits. He stands stiff and alert while waiting for a response. After a buzz of static, Louis’ soft raspy voice comes through. “Hello?”

“Hey, um. Louis. It’s me, Zayn. I’m the alpha from the—”

“I know who you are. Why are you here?”

“I wanted to talk with you. And I brought pastries.” He tacks on, hoping that will convince Louis to at least allow him the chance to talk. The line falls silent. Zayn holds his breath, anxious that he’s truly lost his chance before he even knew he had one. He is just about to push the buzzer again, when the front door clicks open.

The halls and stairwells are the typical blend of scents of communal spaces. With his nose curling to the enclosed spaces, Zayn finds his way through the building. The door to #419 swings open before Zayn even raises his knuckles to knock. Without a word, Louis walks into the kitchen, leaving Zayn to shut the door behind himself.

Zayn sets the box of pastries on the center island and glances around the flat. He hadn't looked around last time he was there as he was too busy fucking Louis to care about the details of his home. But this time he scopes out the space. The flat is warm and welcoming, yet small. The kitchen is tidy, the living room looks lived-in and cozy. He takes off his hoodie and drapes it over the bar stool, before taking a seat across from Louis. Louis stands behind the island, arms crossed sternly over his chest. His posture accentuates the barely-there baby bump. Zayn’s gaze is drawn down to it. The fabric of his shirt stretches at the seams. He’s mesmerized by the little bump.

“Why are you here?” Louis’ sharp tone cuts through Zayn’s amazement like a reprimand. He snaps his eyes up, refocusing on Louis.

“I wanted to help you. And the baby,” Zayn says.

“I don’t need help.” Louis scowls.

“I know. But, I’d still like to be a part of my baby’s life, at least.”

Louis seems to consider this with a thoughtful, yet stern, look on his face. Then, Zayn catches a whiff of his scent, confusion and aggravation souring the air between them. Before Zayn can react, Louis erupts in a barrage of questions that Zayn can’t answer.

“Where were you for the past four months?”

“Out of the country.”

“Where?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?”

“It was for business.”

“Where do you work?”

“Can’t tell you that.”

“What type of business is it?”

“Can’t tell you that.”

Each deflected question has Louis shifting, back straightening, shoulders tensing. Zayn watches as his features close off. He remembers from the website the night before that the growing baby bump can cause back aches and feet swelling.

“Louis, would you like to sit down? We can move to the living room,” Zayn offers.

“I’m fine.” Louis snaps. He shifts his weight and holds a hand to the small of his back, defiant to take Zayn’s suggestion. Louis resumes his questioning, his voice less steely as he asks, “Why’d you suddenly come back now?”

“The job was done, so I came back. I was at the cafe yesterday for work. I didn’t know you worked there.”

“What type of job do you have? You’re out of the country for months, then suddenly you’re just sitting in some local cafe?” Louis’ brow furrows in confusion.

Zayn doesn’t know how to respond. He flails for an answer, opening his mouth but closing it again. Everything is confidential. He’s always been secretive and he’s already told Louis more about himself than he should have.

Louis throws his hands up in the air. “Jesus Christ! It’s illegal isn’t it. Is it a drug cartel? Are you an assassin?”

Zayn masks his amusement behind his practised poker face. He doubts Louis would be happy to learn that Zayn finds his outburst endearing.

“No, not illegal. But it is confidential.”

Louis freezes, staring Zayn down. “Confidential?”

Zayn nods. Louis looks skeptical, worrying his lip between his fingers. “All this avoiding questions and dodging answers is because your entire job is confidential?”

Zayn nods again. A tense silence falls between them. Zayn senses Louis’ growing confusion as he tries to make sense of the half answers and deflections Zayn has offered.

“Okay, but that still doesn’t explain why the hell couldn’t I find any trace of you.” Louis says. “No one at the club knew you. You don’t have any social media. You don’t have family. I don’t even know where you live.”

Every statement hits Zayn like a bullet. He’s been untraceable for so long, it’s as if he doesn’t even exist. Zayn hangs his head. “I’m sorry.”

Louis drops his arms to his side, dejected. “I don’t know if apologies are enough,” Louis says softly. "I need someone I can trust to be here for me, for the baby, one hundred percent. I need someone that can tell me the truth.”

“I’m being as honest as I can be.”

“I don’t know if that is good enough.”

They’ve hit an impasse. There is no compromise to be made today. He got as much of an answer as he could hope for. Louis has clearly stated what he requires from Zayn.

Zayn just doesn’t know if he can give him the honesty he is asking for.

The scent of despondency swirls around them both. Louis shifts, rubbing circles into his back and grimacing to himself. He glances at the clock on the wall, then says, “I think you should go.”

The request falls heavy, snuffing out Zayn’s last shred of hope that talking might be enough to fix this. Every fibre of his being screaming at him to comfort the upset omega. But he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome and he has disrupted Louis’ life enough already.

“Alright,” Zayn says. He is about to head out the door, when he changes course. He turns back to Louis. “Do you have a piece of paper?”

Louis retrieves a notepad and pen from a drawer. Zayn jots down his phone number, like he’d wanted to all those months ago. He tears off the note and hands it to Louis.

“Call me if you need anything.”

Louis just stares down at the note clutched in his hand, avoiding Zayn’s gaze.

Zayn takes one last look around the flat, one last look at Louis, before he walks out the door.

Outside the sun shines bright overhead, a rare clear day for England. Zayn walks back to his flat alone, brooding thoughts of all the circumstances that would make a relationship with Louis impossible. In his line of work, there was little consistency or continuity when working on solo undercover missions. His career was not built on a foundation of honesty and stability. There would always be anonymity and secrecy, risk and danger. Under his current circumstances, It was irresponsible to have a family. It was irresponsible to fall in love. 

Under different circumstances, though, perhaps Zayn could have it all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! [Here](https://haztobegood.tumblr.com/post/622458550443180032/unplanned-circumstances-by-haztobegood-rating-e) is a rebloggable post for the fic.


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